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Citizen media stories from around the worldTue, 03 Mar 2015 17:36:56 +0000en-UShourly1http://wordpress.org/?v=3.8.5Citizen media stories from around the worldGlobal VoicescleanCreative Commons Attribution, see our Attribution Policy for details.Citizen media stories from around the worldinternet, blogs, citizen media, podcasting, internationalGlobal Voices » Digital Activismhttp://img.globalvoicesonline.org/Logos/GV-Logo-Vertical/gv-logo-below-square-144.gifhttp://globalvoicesonline.org/-/topics/digital-activism/
Macedonian NGO Develops First Ever Android and iOS App to Battle Hate Speechhttp://globalvoicesonline.org/2015/03/02/macedonian-ngo-develops-first-ever-android-and-ios-app-to-battle-hate-speech/
http://globalvoicesonline.org/2015/03/02/macedonian-ngo-develops-first-ever-android-and-ios-app-to-battle-hate-speech/#commentsMon, 02 Mar 2015 01:50:08 +0000http://globalvoicesonline.org/?p=511518Macedonian Metamorphosis Foundation has developed a first among mobile applications – an app against hate speech, aiming to bring information from this area to the fingertips of mobile phone users and help them battle this odious occurrence on the Internet.

The app, available for free download both Android and iOS users, was developed in order to more effectively combat hate speech online, enabling access to the latest news in this area, access to educational and expert resources, such as a library with e-books on the matter, interactive tutorials about the various opportunities for reporting hate speech, as well as participation in events related to the fight against hate speech through an integrated calendar.

The application, dubbed simply “Don't Hate”, is the first mobile app of this kind in the world and is currently only available in Macedonian and Albanian, while its creators do plan on developing it further for other languages and markets in the near future.

A protester holds up a Bart Simpson head during a rally calling for Unitel to bring back “The Simpsons”. Screenshot from YouTube.

Bolivian TV channel Unitel probably didn't imagine that a decision some weeks ago to move “The Simpsons” out of its usual time slot to make room for reality show “Calle 7“ would provoke demonstrations in several cities in Bolivia.

John Legend performing at the Tower Theater in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania on December 5, 2008. The US performer is scheduled to perform in Bahrain on March 2. Photo by Judy Glova (CC BY 2.0)

I tried to avoid writing about this issue, as I see no use in highlighting individual events and would prefer to focus more on the social and cultural aspects of my struggle in my country. But moved as I was by the speech made on February 21 by Common and John Legend as they accepted their Academy Award for “Glory” as Best Original Song, I would love if this open letter gets to them somehow.

This it too personal to be just another post citing experts and opinions regarding your planned concert in Bahrain, which many of my friends would love to see cancelled. I, however, would like to see you go to Bahrain, as that would permit at least one of us to witness the beauty of my country as I spend my days in exile thousands of miles away.

My name is part of the problem, or rather the preconceived notions that are be linked to it. Like many things over which I had no control, my name, my birthplace, my ethnicity, all of which were decided when I was born have largely determined the course of my life. In Bahrain these things determine where you can live, what jobs are available to you. Since I was a kid I have feared men in uniform. Until the day I left Bahrain I lived in fear of running into a police checkpoint where I could be “hunted like a rat“, a situation I think you might find familiar.

In the last month six American anthropology students were detained because they were living in Duraz, the village my mother comes from. They were given the choice to relocate to a less “problematic” area as the state media described, or to leave the country. What happens in places like Duraz, where there is a majority Baharna population (Baharna is the name used to describe native or indigenous people like me), has become a secret the government is trying its best to hide. Protests erupt on daily basis in some of them. Journalists are usually denied access to this country and people trying to cover events on ground, like I did, risk arrest and torture. This is how people like me are considered, a problem that should be hidden from the rest of the world, a problem that just cannot be solved.

Recently I did something that I think would make my mother scream, were she ever to read these lines: I got a tattoo. This matters to me because of the story behind it.

Last year, while I was imprisoned for blogging and had little to no hope of getting out, I was taken to the office of the public prosecutor, who told me that I was now accused of establishing a terrorist group. Of course I wanted to laugh, but feared the repercussions. I went back to my cell and sat quietly. A man my father’s age came to me and asked me why I was looking so sad. I told him what had happened and that I couldn’t see a way out of the situation. He said to me: “This time next year you will be out and you will owe me dinner.” He then wrote on a paper a verse of Quran that says “Patience will be rewarded”.

I was eventually released on bail and fled the country, while the elderly man was sentenced to 10 years’ imprisonment. It was the third time he had been arrested. The first time was 25 years ago. Since then I have kept repeating that phrase every time I run into trouble: Patience will be rewarded, patience will be rewarded.

I was walking in Camden Town here in London, where I currently live, when I came across a tattoo shop. It looked a bit scary, but I needed something that would link me to that moment, the moment when I was given a lifeline, when I had hope, so I drew that phrase on a sheet of paper and had it tattooed.

My compatriots in Bahrain have been patient, to say the least. Our struggle for equality and justice has been ongoing for over 90 years. Sometimes I feel like it's a curse that is inherited by one generation after another, a curse I don't want my children to carry. I dream of a country where my children will never feel that my bloodline is a reason for their misfortune, where last names, race, gender, religion, sexual orientation or social status don't decide the course of your life.

I hope that you enjoy your time in Bahrain, but I hope that when you go there that you will visit my birthplace, the highly “problematic” area of Sitra. And just as you performed in Selma, Alabama, I wish you could have the chance to inspire the people of my island to be patient for their dreams to come true.

I doubt this message will reach you, and even if it does, I doubt you will visit Sitra. But I promise you that one day you will hear about the thousands of imprisoned Bahrainis who fought for justice, and achieved glory.

The author in front of the National Assembly of Serbia, waiting to hand in the signatures for the petition for Zoja's Law. Photo courtesy Vuk Visjnic

On a cold evening in December 2014, I learned of Zoja's Law, a proposed piece of legislation that would provide government funds for the diagnosis and treatment of Serbian children and adults with rare diseases. News footage shared online showed how the members of the Serbian National Assembly failed to accept the proposed law into parliamentary procedure. The footage soon went viral across the Serbian web. People were angry. I was angry.

Zoja's Law, first suggested by the parents of a girl named Zoja who battled Batten's Disease for three years and passed away in 2013 at the age of 6, proposes that the government provide funding for children with rare diseases, which often go undiagnosed for long periods of time in Serbia.

The law asks that a time limit of six months be placed on diagnosing rare diseases and disorders in children and minors, after which the government would cover the cost of either sending these young patients abroad for proper diagnosis, or of bringing in foreign experts for diagnosis and treatment. The proposed law was turned down by the National Assembly five times over a period of some 18 months.

The video I and many in Serbians watched over and over again in disbelief shows members of the Serbian National Assembly voting on whether to accept the proposed law into procedure. Of the 250 members of the Assembly, 185 were present that day. When the proposal was brought to the floor by Dr. Dušan Milisavljević, an opposition MP who had volunteered to introduce the proposal on behalf of the group of parents who had written it, 26 members of the Assembly voted “yes”, zero voted “against”, and zero voted to abstain. The remaining 157 MPs simply didn't bother to vote.

A screencapture of the video of the National Assembly vote for Zoja's Law that circulated the Serbian Internet for days.

This post should probably have started, “During my school winter break….” I am a 15-year-old high school student. I can't vote. I can't propose a law. And I definitely can't be a member of the National Assembly. Still, watching the video made me feel deep disappointment and anger at the inhumanity of the politicians that run my country. What I could do was try to effect change by other means.

I first asked a family friend to introduce me to Dr. Dušan Milisavljević, and I chatted with him on Facebook. We decided that the first step would be to use my knowledge of online tools to raise awareness about the Assembly's failure to vote, and Zoja's Law in general.

The next day, I set the stage for our online campaign. I created a video in which I promised that I would not vote in the next parliamentary election (by that time I’ll be old enough to vote) for any of the MPs who had not bothered to vote for Zoja's Law. When I went to the printing place around the corner from my home to print the pages bearing the messages I would use in the video, a man who worked there asked me to explain what Zoja's Law was. Once I explained it he waived the cost of the printing and wished me the luck with the campaign.

I set up a Facebook page to promote an online petition I created. Within days the page had attracted hundreds of fans, and in less than three weeks the petition received over 3,700 signatures. Dr. Milisavljević and the group of parents, led by Zoja's mother, would use the petition signatures and online commentary of others to do what I couldn't do: show Assembly members that people were aware and supporting Zoja's Law.

The group of parents had also started a Facebook group and launched an online campaign which saw parents of sick and healthy children from all over Serbia begin sharing photos of their kids holding messages in support of Zoja's Law. They didn't know who I was and I didn't know who they were, but we began sharing each other's posts, united by a cause we all cared about.

Not everyone was supportive. Some didn't believe it was possible to make a difference, mostly because of their general lack of confidence in our politicians. Others reminded me that online petitions aren't as effective in Serbia because they aren't considered to be valid. A petition in Serbia usually has to be registered and then signatures gathered by a deadline, usually of 7 days. I decided to create an online petition anyway because it was faster, more visible, and I was not legally old enough to start an official petition or even sign one.

People also told me I was wasting my time and that my efforts were pointless. Most people, though, complained about Serbia's MPs and supported our joint effort to raise awareness about Zoja's Law.

In a way, they were all right. The petition, my video, the Facebook page would have achieved nothing if I hadn't collaborated with the group of parents and the one MP proposing the law.

On January 8, Dr. Milisavljević invited me to join him and the group of parents of undiagnosed children who had proposed the law at the National Assembly building for a meeting. They had all just had a meeting with the Minister of Health, who, after the voting fiasco in December, had promised that the proposed law would be accepted into procedure at the next session of the Assembly after the holidays.

It was my first time at the National Assembly. Dr. Milisavljević greeted me at the entrance, where I was waiting for him, watched by two confused security guards. At 15, I don't have an ID card, which you’re usually required to show before entering the building, so they just jotted my name down in a notebook.

Inside, Dr. Milisavljević introduced me to the group of parents of children with undiagnosed genetic diseases or disorders. Zoja's mother was there. She greeted me with a hug. I had heard the stories of Zoja and other kids and they had angered and saddened me, which made it difficult to talk to her and the other parents there without getting emotional. But while Zoja's mom and the other parents looked tired, they didn’t behave like they were burdened with the problems they have. As I sat at one of the tables in the cafe of the National Assembly of the Republic of Serbia with them and Dr. Milisavljević, I wondered how they did it. How they had so much hope. How they kept the smiles on their faces and the cheer in their voices.

I spoke little. I mostly listened to their stories. Many of them described problems in the national health system: tests that led to no result; differing opinions from doctors; doctors’ lack of knowledge about rare diseases; how difficult it was to simply not know what was wrong with your child. I learned that undiagnosed patients in Serbia aren't even considered ill. If there is no code for their illness known to the Serbian health system, patients cannot not be categorized or treated and are essentially invisible to the system.

I went with Dr. Milisavljević to his office to print out the petition. The women who worked there were surprised by my age and my initiative, but they were very supportive and asked if there was anything else I needed. I answered no and they wished me luck. We didn't get to hand the signatures in that day.

After several more meetings with different members and legal aides of the government, more campaigning, and several media appearances by Dr. Milisavljević and Zoja's mother, as spokesperson for the group of parents, the proposal for Zoja's Law was amended and the Serbian National Assembly voted to pass the Law in a session on January 23, 2015.

Of 250 members of the National Assembly, 166 were present for voting that day. 163 members of the Assembly voted for Zoja's Law, zero voted against, zero abstained, and only 3 decided not to cast a vote.

This time around, the voting was well covered by media. Some said it “united members of the Assembly”. Others commented that Assembly members and their political parties were just using the opportunity for a few easy political points. Either way, mission accomplished.

A child goes into a captured armored vehicle that was exhibited in Kyiv as part of the proof of Russian military presence in Ukraine. Image by Geovien So at Demotix.

An anonymous account on Twitter claiming to be a Russian soldier at a military hospital in a Russian town is providing undercover reports on the wounded brought from the frontlines in Ukraine.

The account, @ponimaem, started tweeting on Thursday, February 26. The bio says simply “ну вы же понимаете в какой стране живем?” (“You do understand what kind of country we live in?”) and the avatar features an anonymous person in a mask holding their finger to their lips, as if to underscore the anonymity of the author.

For over a month I've been a patient at a military hospital in one of Russia's towns, and I constantly hear talk of Donestk and Lugansk.

The anonymous soldier says he's using his hospital neighbor's laptop and a VPN connection to send the tweets. While the user doesn't have access to any papers of the wounded brought in, he has promised to provide more proof of being in the hospital.

I really am at a military hospital, where DNR and LNR fighters are being brought at night. [Image of sheets with typical military hospital insignia]

Although the soldier says he himself has only served inside Russia and never went to Ukraine, his rationale for making his observations public, he says, is to “exculpate some of the guilt” of being part of the “Russian world” fighting in Ukraine.

The user says wounded fighters are brought in every night, under cover of darkness, in secret. While he isn't sure in every case whether they're soldiers of the regular army, volunteers or mercenaries, @ponimaem writes the doctors always get to them last, usually after 9:00 p.m., and their arrival and treatment are always covert.

Every night 3-4 fighters for the “Russian world” are brought to our hospital in cars without any insignia.

Users’ reactions to the account have been mixed, with some praising the anonymous whistleblower's bravery, and others accusing him of treason. @ponimaem says he's aware of the danger of being found out, but feels like talking about the things he sees is something he has to do.

I understand very well that I can be accused of treason for these words, but better do this then look my children in the eye with shame later.

Being able to create and maintain anonymous accounts on social media remains a key guarantee of freedom of expression, especially in countries where free speech is under threat. Russia's recent suggestions of restricting access to anonymization and circumvention tools such as Tor, VPNs, and proxy-servers, as well as the Kremlin's continued pressure on Twitter to disclose user data put anonymous whistleblowers like @ponimaem under direct threat.

This poster was displayed by the Trinidad and Tobago Ministry of Gender, Youth and Child Development in commemoration of International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. The symposium was attended by students of the Hugh Wooding Law School and formed part of their research for the ‘Join The Fight’ campaign.

Anessa Anderson and Sharla Weir of Barbados, Stefan Knights from Guyana and Nadia Scott from Trinidad and Tobago designed a project to bring awareness to an issue which is often overlooked in Trinidad and Tobago and the wider Caribbean:

We believed the subject of human trafficking had not received the level of public appreciation which it deserved and it was our duty to bring awareness to it.

The initiative, which was branded “Join The Fight”, consisted of a public service announcement, a short video on human trafficking in Trinidad and Tobago, and volunteering their time at an event organised by the Trinidad and Tobago Rape Crisis Society, in which the group assisted in the distribution of learning materials and in role playing. They also advised victims of rape and domestic violence about the human trafficking laws in Trinidad and Tobago. The logo used in the campaign was designed by Dane Elliott-Hamilton, a fellow student at the Hugh Wooding Law School.

We identified the CURB as the most prominent NGO which addresses human trafficking at the policy and ground level. [...] we volunteered our time with the CURB [...] This experience was definitely an amazing one as the members of the group were able to impart knowledge of a critical human rights area in the country and educate the vast number of persons who were in attendance on that day.

The students also created a public service announcement, to be distributed digitally and broadcast on local television stations.

As part of their assessment for the Clinic, the students visited primary and secondary schools, delivering presentations on various human rights issues and distributing a brochure about human trafficking, in order to raise awareness about the gravity of this modern-day form of slavery.

A short documentary on the issue of human trafficking in Trinidad and Tobago formed the final component of the students’ project.

On completion of the project, the students said of their experience:

This project has made us aware of a myriad of things, it has allowed us develop new skills and sharpen existing ones.

This new generation of aspiring attorneys is revolutionising what it means to be custodians of the law, which sometimes involves being the voice of the voiceless. Students of the High Wooding Law School have already advocated against bullying, which they see as a critical human rights issue. Other projects they have undertaken include speaking out about pressing issues such as domestic violence and gay rights. The Global Voices Caribbean team will highlight these projects as part of this series.

London based Iranian journalist Masih Alinejad won the 2015 Women's Rights Award at the Geneva Summit for Human Rights and Democracy for her Facebook page “My Stealthy Freedom” this past week. The page invites Iranian women to post pictures of themselves without a Hijab, in defiance of Iran's Islamic laws that enforce compulsory hijab. With over 750, 000 followers, this page has been considered something of social media movement for Iranian women.

Ukrainian Ministry of Information Policy is ramping up its attempts to win the information war with Russia. Their newest idea? Launching a website to recruit Ukrainian social media users for a government-run “Internet army.”

Minister Yuri Stets had already hinted in January that an “Internet force” of influential users, coordinated by and working for the state, would make a good weapon to wield against Russian propaganda and manipulation online. Now, it seems, the Ministry has put his ideas about “sharing truthful information and debunking fakes” into action.

The new website, i-army.org, popped up on the social media radar on February 23. Using the slogan “Each of your information messages is a bullet in your enemy's conscience,” the webpage invites users to submit their name/nickname and email address to join the ranks of “information warriors.”

As you know, Russia's war against Ukraine is called a hybrid one.
This is because the war is real, and information about it is false. A lot of fronts are open against us, and the information front is one of the most important ones.
[from the i-army.org website]

The “iArmy” also got a Twitter account, where it has already started debunking fakes and educating followers about the “signs of Russian propaganda,” and a Facebook page, filled with photoshopped images to assist the recruiting effort.

Image from Інформаційна війська України on Facebook.

Ukrainian social media users were immediately suspicious of the site and speculations about whether it was real or fake ran rampant. Media requests for comment to the Ministry went unanswered. Many users were understandably skeptical.

Finally, several hours later the Ministry's official online HQ spit out a press-release announcing the “Internet Army” launch and linking to the new website. The release says the Army's main goal is to mobilize Internet users to fight “Russian bots, spreading fakes, informational and psychological pressure from Russian media” and notes the Minister hopes that the new project “will help mobilize a number of volunteers to spread the truth and expose Russian fakes.”

The “Ukrainian Internet Army” will be run by a well-known Ukrainian blogger and video streamer Oleksandr Baraboshko (aka Krus), recently hired as adviser to the Minister. In an interview to Radio Liberty, Stets claimed that over 20 thousand users, including influential bloggers, have already joined the initiative.

Ukrainian social media users reacted to news of the new cyber army draft with varying degrees of humor and skepticism.

Just for fun I'm joining the information forces. Let's see what kind of combat tasks they give us.

Users who subscribed on the website have already received several emails from the “Internet Army” command, informing them of the first tasks they had to perform. Those include recruiting their friends and followers to sign up on the website and leaving comments under news stories on “pro-Kremlin” Russian news websites like LifeNews. The emails also provide advice on dealing with “Kremlin trolls” (never try to argue with them) and warn users against sharing news from Russian websites (“they are all controlled by the Kremlin”).

The more critical voices on Twitter were unhappy about the level of professionalism displayed by the Ministry and the “Internet Army,” and some straight out dismissed the idea as ludicrous.

If Stets suggested bloggers come together as an “information army” not as the Minister of Information at the Ministry of Truth, but as [a representative] of the coordinating civic council, I'd approve of this, otherwise I only feel disgust at this stillborn bureaucracy.

The Ministry of Information Policy, itself a recent addition to the Ukrainian government, had a rocky start in January when it was dubbed the Ministry of Truth by the Ukrainian public. Many think it is an unnecessary waste of budget funds and an attempt to further curtail freedom of speech in Ukraine.

Volunteer groups in Ukraine are already engaging in information warfare in their own small ways, whether by hacking webcams and printers or by collecting data on rebel troop movements. The newest project, it seems, is not doing much to inspire confidence in the Ministry's abilities to guard Ukraine's information integrity and security. Given the stilted government rhetoric and the level of distrust towards the Ministry, it's hard to believe the “Internet Army” will be successful if it attempts to fight the Kremlin trolls with their own weapons.

Violent militant group Boko Haram, which now occupies large swathes of Nigerian territory, has launched 114 attacks on Cameroonian soil in the past year, according to the Cameroon government. The group has killed hundreds of Cameroonian civilians, scores of soldiers, and lost over 1,000 fighters in the process.

The most deadly Boko Haram attack on Cameroonian soil occurred on February 4, 2015, in Fotokol, where it killed about 90 civilians, according to government sources (some sources put the number of dead at more than 500).

In reaction to the persistent and increasingly macabre Boko Haram attacks on Cameroon and neighboring countries, the Cameroon Bloggers Association recently launched a #StopBokoHaram campaign. According to the AfrIct blog:

The goal of the campaign is threefold: highlight the threat posed by the terrorist group in Cameroon, show support for Cameroonian troops who have so far held back the Boko Haram onslaught, and express solidarity with the people of the North region who have been hardest hit by Boko Haram.

In an interview with government-owned daily Cameroon Tribune, Florian Ngimbis, president of the bloggers association, further explained the rationale behind the campaign:

The Cameroonian blogosphere would like to become, beyond the powerful personalities within its ranks, a real hub for political consciousness, not by creating a political party but by leveraging the strength of its network for national causes. It is our modest contribution to this war, which is not just a war that concerns the northern regions of the country, but the entire country and continent in the fight against obscurantism and terrorism.

The first part of the campaign has been primarily on social media with bloggers sharing their thoughts about the war against Boko Haram and explaining why they have joined the #StopBokoHaram campaign. Blogger Ulrich Tadajeu Kenfac explains that he has joined the campaign to preach the message of peace:

I began blogging a few years ago in order to “scream and force the world to come into the world,” to use the words of Sony Labou Tansi. Given the distress that our species has brought upon its own kind, given the terror that decimates lives and terrorizes families, we might wonder, along with Hölderlin, “what need is there for poets in times of distress?” In other words, “what need is there for bloggers in times of barbarism?” We need bloggers in times of barbarism to preach a message of love, a message of fraternity and humanity. That is my message today. Let the human live, and let peace and fraternity be our values. Let Boko Haram cease to exist so that humans may live.

A friend asked me what actions I would recommend, and if I was ready to take up arms against Boko Haram. I smiled. Relevant question nonetheless. My words, my pen, and the ease with which I express my feelings, choices and ideas in my writings, are my weapons. My goal is to encourage every Cameroonian, wherever they are, to speak up and campaign for a return to peace in Northern Cameroon…
Cameroon is my homeland; welcoming and humanly. I refuse to allow its liberty and integrity besmirched by individuals driven by gratuitous hatred, and who hide their pseudo-courage behind weapons and violence against a defenseless population.

At the heart of the campaign is the bloggers’ use of Facebook and Twitter to publish updates from the war front along with patriotic messages to rally Cameroonians around the war effort:

I Am
The BIR [Cameroon special forces]
The Chadian Army
The Nigerian Army
The Nigerien Army
#StopBokoHaram

Hundreds of Cameroonians have joined in, replacing their Facebook and Twitter profiles and cover pictures with special banners created for the campaign, and sending out thousands of tweets using the #StopBokoHaram hashtag. Many Twitter users have also expressed their support for the campaign or explained what it means to them.

A number of Cameroonian musicians have also joined the campaign, the most notable being the collaborative effort by a group of urban musicians who produced a song titled Je Suis Kolofata (I am Kolofata) in honor of a town in the Far North region of Cameroon which has been repeatedly attacked by Boko Haram:

The #StopBokoHaram campaign has also garnered support outside Cameroon, for example, from the community of Togolese bloggers:

The President of the National Assembly @SOROKGUILLAUME supports @BloggersCM. All of us together against the Boko Haram terrorist threat.

Thanks to the Cameroon bloggers’ campaign, many Cameroon have come to realize that the war against Boko Haram is not just “an affair of the North” but a war against a terrorist sect whose actions threaten Cameroon’s sovereignty and stability.

Public appreciation for the Cameroon Bloggers Association is summed up in a tweet from Georgie du Kamer:

Sixteen students of the Hugh Wooding Law School participated in the school's Human Rights Law Clinic for the 2014/2015 academic year. The Student Attorneys, from Trinidad and Tobago, Barbados and Guyana completed several individual and group projects, each with a human rights aim.

Students at the Gandhi Memorial Vedic School. Photo used with author's permission.

Student Attorneys Tamara Dolsingh, Rorey Gaya, Ryanka Ragbir and Veneeta Ramsingh undertook this project and chose the Gandhi Memorial Vedic School, as students of that school had recently participated in a walk against bullying.

Durng this experience the law students established that bullying was prevalent in primary schools in varying degrees.

In an effort to combat the issue of bullying, the law students created an anti-bullying kit, comprising a teacher’s manual, a student’s manual, a ‘sorry box', a suggestion box, colouring sheets, DVD videos and various quotes on bullying.

At the school, the Student Attorneys addressed a standard five class which comprised 61 students. The primary school students were given a summary of the content of the manuals in the kit, namely explanations on the law, the effects of bullying, understanding bullying and ways to peacefully resolve it.

The Student Attorneys presented the kit, and explained how it was to be used. The primary school students voluntarily made a variety of suggestions on how to deal with bullying which were added to the suggestion box. Then, the ‘sorry box’ was demonstrated and some very brave students wrote their confessions in relation to bullying others and made anonymous apologies.

The law students also worked on a ‘pledge wall’ with the primary school pupils, where the young students came up and wrote individual pledges to stick on the wall. The primary school students’ pledges were short and simple but were useful in helping them to take an active role in eradicating bullying.

Following the success of the law students’ visit to the Gandhi Memorial Vedic School, they were invited to participate in a Working Group against Bullying hosted by the Trinidad and Tobago National Commission for UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Social and Cultural Organization). They hope that by working together with these organizations, they will be able to apply their initiative on a grander scale and, in the process, reach out to more persons whose lives are affected by bullying.

But there's much more to the country. That's what Ugaaso Boocow wants to show. The Toronto native moved to Mogadishu recently. That's where her parents are from. But to keep in touch with her friends and family back in Canada, she started posting pictures and short videos to Instagram.

And now, more than 47,000 people and counting are following her account. “I would post things that we didn't have in Canada, like perspiring pitchers of fruit juice, watermelon and mango, freshly squeezed lemon — the longest coastline in Africa,” she says. “Just to show that it's very much normal to be out here and to live here and to work here and to be a young women in this country.”

Her photos are beautiful. But at first glance you don't notice the pictures also say a ton, especially ones showing a paved road or lights. “It's unbelievable the small things that I was posting that were meaningless if you were in Canada,” she says. “Why would you take a picture of a light? That's because we actually have lights here now. The roads are paved. We have buildings. They fascinated people for whatever reason.”

Her followers span continents and countries. There's her hometown crowd in Toronto. Others in Scandinavia. More in Nigeria. She wants people to have a positive connotation to the words, Somalia, Mogadishu, and East Africa.

She's in it for the long haul, too. Magadishu is her home. “Mogadishu has always been my home in my heart. I was not in Mogadishu for 20-some-odd years, but Mogadishu has always been, and will always be my home.”

Ali Abdulemam is a Bahraini blogger and founder of Bahrain Online, a pro-democracy news website and forum. In August 2010, Abdulemam was arrested and imprisoned by Bahraini authorities, on accusations of “spreading false information.” He was released in February 2011 and subsequently went into hiding following a crackdown by the government on pro-democracy protesters. Tried and sentenced to 15 years in prison in absentia, Abdulemam fled the country in 2013 and was granted political asylum in the UK, where he now has political asylum. He currently works with both Bahrain Watch and the Bahrain Center for Human Rights. He is also a member of the Global Voices community.

Last week, Bahrain revoked Abdulemam’s citizenship along with another 71 Bahraini citizens, many of whom are journalists or bloggers. This is in contravention of Article 15 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which guarantees everyone the right to a nationality and states that “no one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality nor denied the right to change his nationality.” This is Abdulemam’s reflection on losing his citizenship.

When I first registered on Facebook back in 2005, I wrote in my biography “Lost Identity”. It wasn’t an expectation of what was going to happen to me 10 years on, so much as expressing my thoughts regarding “identity”, and how it works in everything around me, how it affects me, affects my way of thinking, the way I look into other people, the way I define things, in this century we can call it the “Identity Era”.

I first heard the news about the stripping of my nationality while I was talking with a friend on the phone. A popup message in WhatsApp appeared, saying: “Urgent. 72 citizenships revoked.” I told him “I think my citizenship has been revoked” and he laughed at me. Hearing him laughing I opened the link to see the names and scrolled down to No. 49 and there was my name, Ali Hasan Abdulla Abdulemam. I confirmed it to him. “I think yours is also there,” I said and scrolled down to No. 70. He stopped laughing when I told him: “your name is there as well.”

The first thing I did it was tweet: “When I woke up this morning I was Bahraini, and when I wake up tomorrow I will be Bahraini.” I am sticking with my identity. I don’t want to leave it. Now, I have my own definition of the “identity” that I love and the main part of this identity is not “lost”. It is “BAHRAINI”. It is not for the government to give it or take it away, it is not for them to take me from my roots, I will not accept to be unrecognised by the world. I will keep telling myself, my kids, and my friends that I am from the country that created the Lulu revolution. (Lulu refers to the 2011 uprising named after the Pearl or Lulu Roundabout, where public demonstrations took place.)

“What does it mean to be Bahraini?” This is a question with different answers depending on the time you want the answer. I got to know the real meaning of this question when I first left jail at the end of February 2011 at three in the morning and went directly to Lulu square where the protesters were freely sleeping in peace. I felt the dignity and smelled my real “identity” which I almost lost inside prison, when they tortured and threatened me. I felt they were targeting my identity, not targeting me personally. Those officers who imprisoned and tortured me didn’t know me, hadn’t met me before. They had a problem with me being different from them. They wanted me to be like them.

Now I am stateless. I don’t know how I will be able to visit my aged mother, my brothers, sisters and my friends. There are so many places I love in Bahrain that I can’t imagine I will die before I visit them again: that beach I use to play in it when I was kid, that unpainted wall with graffiti that says “the parliament is the solution” from the 1990s. I still want to take a selfie with it. I miss going to Spalion cafe where my friends are still gathering to share stories and chat about culture, politics, and religion and to again ask Abbas the waiter for “one bastard tea”. The most important place I want to visit, and spend as much time as I can, is the cemetery where my father has rested in peace for the past six years. I haven’t been there for almost five years. My father is the first person who taught me what is meant to be Bahraini.

There is a proverb my father used to tell me when I was a child: “Those who disown their roots don’t have any.” That’s what I want to tell my nine-year-old son. I will point his finger to that beautiful, tiny island in the Gulf and tell him “your father came from here, and here is where we belong.” I refuse to recognise this decree by the king, I will keep writing I am Bahraini on any application form. I will not accept to be “Lost Identity” again. I have an identity and I am proud of it.

Vladimir Putin has attracted considerable attention for comments in Budapest yesterday, February 17, where he urged Ukraine to accept defeat in Debaltseve after losing to “yesterday’s miners and tractor drivers.” Putin's appeal comes as many on the RuNet believe they've found video proof that someone with slightly higher military credentials than a tractor driver is calling the shots in Debaltseve: Deputy Commander of Russia's Ground Forces Aleksandr Lentsov.

Dutch blogger “Dajey Petros,” who runs the popular Ukraine@War blog, seems to be one of the first online to have suggested Lentsov’s involvement in commanding the separatists who laid siege and recently captured Debaltseve. He tweeted on the evening of February 17 saying that Lentsov is “overseeing the takeover of Debaltseve,” comparing a still from a video apparently showing “Lentsov” in Debaltseve to a confirmed photograph of Lentsov in his military uniform. Soon after this tweet, a number of popular Ukrainian and Russian social media users shared his findings, expanding the possible discovery into a full-fledged Internet phenomenon.

In the video “Dajey Petros” cites, the man resembling Lentsov counts off Ukrainian prisoners and later discusses the surrender of the Ukrainian soldiers alongside a rebel commander of the Luhansk People’s Republic. A second video later emerged, supposedly showing “Lentsov” issuing commands on a radio during an attack in or near Debaltseve.

Whether or not this man is actually Lentsov remains unconfirmed, but it's hard to deny the resemblance between the man in the separatist videos and the man who we know to be Lentsov. The OSCE Twitter account does indicate, however, that Lentsov was at the JCCC quarters about 35 miles from Debaltseve, in the eastern Ukrainian city of Soledar, on the night of February 16. OSCE reports also state Lentsov met with Luhansk and Donetsk separatist representatives in Debaltseve in December 2014 in his official capacity as head of the Russian Representation in southeast Ukraine.

Many on the RuNet have already made up their minds about Lentsov, tying what they claim to be his leading role in the Debaltseve battle to Putin’s comments of separatists being “miners and tractor drivers”:

On the left, a “simple miner” and, on the right, Deputy Commander of the Ground Forces of the Russian Federation Aleksandr Lenstov.

Vitaly Kiselev, a commander of the Luhansk People’s Republic, was actually standing next to “Lentsov” during the video, thus the confusion over the name that was “attributed” to Lentsov during the clip.

“Lentsov” on the left, Kiselev on the right in this screenshot posted to LiveJournal.

Some skeptics suggested the Lentsov doppelganger was actually a local man who had risen in the ranks.

Это бывший тракторист, ныне таксист, возит Захарченка.

He used to be a tractor driver, and now he's taxiing around Zakharchenko [head of Donetsk People’s Republic].

Not all of the commentary was focused on jokes about tractor-drivers and miners, as others recalled Lentsov's checkered past as a military commander, calling into question why he in particular was involved in the Ukrainian conflict now:

Today the valiant paratrooper, comrade Lieutenant General Lentsov, became a star of the Internet, even though his prominent figure has popped up in Ukraine since the beginning of the war in Lugandon [Lugansk and Donetsk]. Earlier this brave soldier was honored with military awards for flattening residential neighborhoods in Chechnya, and Russian paratroopers have probably not forgotten that it was Lentsov who refused to provide covering fire for the 6th Pskov paratrooper infantry—a cynical decision that led to the deaths of 84 soldiers in 2000. Basically, this general is just what this vile war needs.

The degree of citizen verification flame wars online was such that Lentsov himself finally spoke to Russia's state channel Pervyy Kanal and denied his presence in Debaltseve on February 16 or 17, claiming “it would have been impossible for him to get into the area” even if he had wanted to. While this might extinguish the fervor of some fact-checkers on social media, others will no doubt take Lentsov's excuses with a grain of salt.

The verification pros on the RuNet, it seems, can be as entrenched in their views as pundits and political commentators on mainstream media. Given that both the Ukrainian and Russian sides have committed fact-checking blunders in the past and have tried to use fake evidence to prove or disprove the presence of Russian military in eastern Ukraine, getting the public to believe any such proof might be a long and thankless battle.

]]>http://globalvoicesonline.org/2015/02/18/russia-military-debaltseve-rebels-verification/feed/30Cyber Sex Did Not End Well For These Syrians Fighting Assad's Regimehttp://globalvoicesonline.org/2015/02/18/the-sex-chats-that-end-with-pro-regime-syrian-hackers-stealing-sensitive-information-from-the-rebels/
http://globalvoicesonline.org/2015/02/18/the-sex-chats-that-end-with-pro-regime-syrian-hackers-stealing-sensitive-information-from-the-rebels/#commentsWed, 18 Feb 2015 21:32:14 +0000http://globalvoicesonline.org/?p=507987

Sex as a weapon against Syrian Revolution. Photo by @R22Blog

An estimated 7.7 GB of data has been stolen from the computers and mobile phones of anti-regime fighters in Syria, a new study has revealed.

Sexual entrapment has become a dominant pillar of cyber warfare launched by President Assad's regime. Syrian opposition and rebel fighters have been subjected to piracy and hacking. Stolen data includes military and political information, humanitarian activities, refugees profiles, communication and media. The material has been obtained by hackers, posing as seductive women, to entice military secrets from the fighters through the use of malware.

The revelations are detailed by FireEye, a private company that provides cyber-security solutions to governments and corporations. Its special report “Behind The Syrian Conflict's Digital Front Lines” [pdf], focuses on the Syrian regime's sex-based hacking operations:

We uncovered these battle plans in the course of our ongoing threat research. It quickly became apparent that we had come across stolen documents containing the secret communications and plans of Syrian opposition forces that had fallen victim to a well-executed hacking operation.

Seduction and sex as weapon is as old as the story of Delilah, when she seduced the powerful Samson. “Delilahs” in 21st century are Pro-Assad hackers who have tricked Syria's rebels (possibly, some from ISIS) into falling for the oldest scam on the Internet in chats with “girls”. The hackers establish contact with fighters via Skype, pretending to be an attractive woman. They then send an image malware – tailored to PC or smartphone – which automatically establishes a remote-access tool known as DarkComet, embedded in their sexy selfies.

On its report, on page 12, FireEye reports a representative chat between IMAN (hacker) and her target (victim):

IMAN: How are you on skype? On a computer or on your phone?
TARGET:How are you?
IMAN: Are you opening Skype on your mobile?
TARGET: Computer and mobile
TARGET: How old are you?
IMAN: 25
IMAN: And you?
TARGET: What is your date of birth?
IMAN: 10-3-88
TARGET: Lololol
TARGET: 10-3-89
IMAN: What a nice coincidence
IMAN: Sent file New-Iman-Picture.pif
TARGET: You drive me crazy

Iman and the victim sharing the same date of birth is no coincidence. The fighter’s birthday is available on Skype and social networking sites, information the hackers already have.

It is not yet clear whether the hackers have passed the stolen information of the Syrian rebels to the Syrian government or not. If the stolen information is passed on to the Syrian government, it would help them in defeating the rebels. We don’t have any information regarding the hackers behind this operation.

Screenshot of the FireEye report.

7.7GB of Data Stolen

According to the report, these hacking actions resulted in 7.7 GB of stolen data, including military and political information, humanitarian activities, refugees profiles, communication and media. It says 64 Skype account databases, 31,107 conversations, 12,356 contacts and 240,381 messages have been compromised.

In an Arabic post on Raseef22 blog, Mohamad Ghazi writes about previous sex scandals top anti-regime officers have been embroiled in recently. The article outlines, in detail, how several officers of armed Syrian rebels have become victims of sex hackers, who later on published their “virtual” encounters, including their photographs in compromising positions and videos of their sexual acts, to blackmail them. It explains how the officers fell from grace, and disappeared from public life.

This is not the first time that an international organization exposed how the Syrian regime tends to spy on its opposition. In December 2012, when the Internet was back in Syria after three days of a blackout, the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) reported that it detected two new campaigns of malware targeting Syrian activists associated with the same IP address.

The last report by FireEye comes after 47 weeks of a violent war between fragmented armed divisions opposing the Assad regime who still denies any human rights violations and yet continues to bomb civilian targets despite international condemnation. The war that has killed 210,000 Syrians since March 18, 2011, could now be dictated by information obtained through cyber sex.

Tweet bird Image by Id-iom and used under a CC BY-NC 2.0 Creative Commons license.

Of the approximately 7,000 languages spoken around the world, only a small fraction are found on the Internet. On the platform Twitter, 85% of the tweets are written in one of just eight languages, according to one study – not exactly an accurate reflection of the planet's cultural and linguistic diversity.

Through this online campaign, we want to recognize and encourage Internet users who are sharing their language on Twitter with a special focus on indigenous, endangered and minority languages, all of which may not be as well represented online.

It's easy to get involved:

Step 1 – Tweet in Your Mother Language

Tweet using your mother language throughout the day

Share “Why is it important to use your language on the Internet?”

Tweet greetings or your favorite words/phrases in your language

Tweet a translation to encourage speakers of other indigenous and minority language communities

Why Tweet in Your #MotherLanguage?

Despite the increase in the number of languages being used online, many communities still face ongoing challenges when trying to communicate through social media. Some languages lack a keyboard that allows users to write in their language, and many parts of the world still lack adequate connectivity, excluding them from the online conversation.

However, Internet communication has proven to be an important part of language preservation and revitalization. Easy-to-use digital tools allow for more people to create content in their language, and the Internet for speakers of these languages to connect, regardless of geographic distances.

This campaign will highlight the work of many individuals and groups committed to using their languages on the Internet, many of whom may be considered “language digital activists” for their role in bridging this divide and encouraging a new generation of speakers. We are fortunate to count the participation of “ambassadors” such as Rodrigo Pérez (@ISF_MX) from Mexico, who regularly tweets in the Zapotec language and Ignacio Tomichá Chuve (@MonkoxBesiro) from Bolivia, who regularly tweets in the Bésiro (Chiquitano) language, who created these videos extending an invitation to participate in the campaign. More ambassador videos are on their way and will be added to the playlist:

Thanks to help of many people around the world, the campaign website has already been translated in more than 25 languages, including Odia, Sena, and Lezgian. Many of these translations came from members of the Global Voices’ Lingua Project, a community of volunteer translators.

With your help, we can pave the way for a more multilingual Internet where different languages are celebrated, not excluded. All it takes is a tweet or retweet!